


The Sword Thief

by The_Amarathine_Carrion



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday, Felix Week (Fire Emblem), Friends to Lovers, Gift Giving, I missed posting on the actual birthday by a few hours but I’m still going with it, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22830463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Amarathine_Carrion/pseuds/The_Amarathine_Carrion
Summary: Someone’s taken one of Felix’s most valuable swords and he’s not going to give up until he finds out who it is.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62
Collections: Felix Birthday Week 2020





	The Sword Thief

_Where the hell is— the Boar better not have taken it again._

Felix feels a slight twinge of panic as he thrashes through all of his things- a feat that too isn’t difficult as he prefers to own less than the average noble. The Sword of Zoltan is nowhere to be found. He curses under his breath as his bangs fall into his line of vision, already dampened by the sweat of his brow. The sword was difficult enough to part with when the Professor requested it and then the Boar had gone and broken it with his brutish strength. He was lucky to have saved enough to repair it, but now the shards he kept wrapped up in leather and stashed by the side of the bed had somehow disappeared. If he can’t bring it to the blacksmith by the end of the day, it will be difficult to learn how to handle it quickly enough to wield in the event that he needs to fend something off while they accompany the Professor on their stupid field trip.

He scoffs as he blows the hairs away. Finding lost items was a challenge more befit for someone like Ashe. It was extremely frustrating to him to waste time he could be spending on training looking so long for something- even if it was important. He’d finally gotten to a high enough skill level to train with the weapon— and now? There was no reason it should be missing.

Felix sighs. _There’s never a damn reason in this place._

He regards the entire room with a final stony glance. It obviously wasn’t here, and he needed to get to class. Staying here would only serve to further piss him off. He should go and just try his hand with a brave sword, but the stubborn streak in him wanted to get to the bottom of the barrel. He was going to find the culprit no matter what it took.

The dining hall is his first destination. Students flit in and out at different times so it can be rather unreliable for any specific cornering, but he figured it was a good place to start as students from all three houses had to show their faces eventually. It was most likely that someone from the second floor had swiped the pieces, and there were a mixture of nobles from different houses that fit in that category.

He wouldn’t even hypothesize that Marianne or Hilda were involved— it was too much work to take the violent item from under his nose and restore it for any kind of profit. It would also be below Lorenz or Ferdinand to do so; they were ridiculous, yet pious. Edelgard and Hubert might have been suspicious, if they hung around long enough to know about it. Perhaps Caspar? It wasn’t the best lead. Sure, he might be interested if the weapon wasn’t already broken— but he wasn’t that keen on swords anyway. Besides, he’s too loud to be successful at stealing anything.

That left Claude, Dimitri, Ingrid, and Sylvain as his strongest suspects. Claude was clever and stealthy and still a stranger to Felix despite sharing a wall with him. His curious nature and proximity to Felix’s room made it easy to assume the archer could have discovered the location of the sword and taken it. Felix’s three childhood friends, on the other hand, already knew the existence and the fate of the weapon, but they all had a presence to their footsteps that the swordsman was well attuned to. He hadn’t heard anything familiar around him from the time he prepared the package before he went to bed and the moment of realization after he dressed in the morning.

Claude is sitting with Hilda as usual in the center of the Golden Deer table, miming majestically as he recounts another one of his flashy hunting tales. Felix doesn’t feel even a smidge of remorse as he approaches to interrupt him harshly.

“Where did you put my sword?”

Claude blinks, distracted from his role of storyteller to manage the anger emanating from Felix. His smile is unchanged, but his eyes calculate quick as can be to come up with an appropriate response.

“Uh— What do you mean? I don’t use swords. I’m more of a bow guy. I thought even you’d notice that by now.”

Felix is unconvinced. There were plenty of other reasons why someone might have taken it to be restored. The value of Zoltan weapons aren’t solely in their utility. He steps closer and speaks lower, darting his eyes over the heads of the puzzled students peering at them like he was going to ruin their entire morning with his accusations.

“What I noticed is that you were there to see me bring it back in pieces. Where is it now?”

Claude’s face leaks genuine confusion and even Felix can see he’s going to get nowhere with questioning him here. He growls and ignores the squeak of the young girl two seats away from where he stands, beginning to fume. Claude raises his shoulders in a nonchalant manner, his eyes showing a bit of concern for how the atmosphere was beginning to affect the others.

“Look, Felix, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I didn’t take anything of yours, specifically, if that’s why you’re here. I might be able to help you find something if you ask me again, nicely next time— the word please comes to mind. ”

Felix rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to stamp his foot. Like hell he’d ask— especially for something like this from someone like him. Claude was already so unhelpful. This whole exchange was going to end up being a huge waste of time. He should have known not to start his search by talking to him.

“Never mind that.” He snaps. Marianne recoils from the physicality of his temper, staining the air with his frustrations. He softens slightly, stepping away and refocusing on the proper subject. Claude coughs and waves a half hearted farewell as he grumbles, ambling away toward the Knight’s hall in pursuit of Dimitri or Ingrid instead.

Ingrid is well on her way to demolishing a dummy with her spear by the time he gets there and Felix hangs back, silently critiquing her technique until she reaches a natural cadence in her thrusts and stops to wipe the sweat from her face. He comes up from the side where she can see him ahead of his arrival. He won’t make the mistake of finding himself on the sharp end of her favorite weapon without one of his own prepared to defend with again.

“Ingrid.”

Ingrid regards him with her version of a reserved surprise. She’s still too out of breath to respond properly, which is perfect. He can get this over with without any of her particular comments, then.

“Did you take my Sword of Zoltan?”

She raises an eyebrow at him, setting her spear to lean against what remains of the thrashed dummy and dusting some old dirt off her clothes with a small grimace.

“No, of course not. Why would I do that?”

He almost sputters at her indifference. They were all selectively passionate, but this was serious enough that he’d interrupted her training. He’d never bother her for any other reason. Whoever had taken his sword had entered his room without permission, and even without the theft that was crossing a line.

“It doesn’t matter _why— Did you..?_

She has the gall to act like _he’s_ annoying her when she interjects. “I don’t know why you’re asking me when you know I don’t have any interest in such things. Have you already talked to his Highness at the training grounds? I’m sure he’s just being courteous by finally fixing it.”

 _The Boar._ Felix had really hoped to avoid confronting him while he was in this mood. The mere thought of it made him gnash his teeth. He was itching for a fight and the reminder that he was missing the sword he’d worked so hard to wield just fired him up all the more.

“Fine. I’ll poke the beast and see what comes from it.”

He heads to the training grounds, not even noting the people who jump out of his way as he storms past the classrooms. He pushes the doors open and promptly grabs a silver sword without announcing himself, then proceeds to rush Dimitri down.

The Prince anticipates everything, turning smoothly and blocking the attack without indicating that it took any true effort. Felix snarls, falling back, then attacks again, this time pushing back against the spear of the Blaiddyd crest bearer with as much force as he can muster.

“Beast! I suppose you couldn’t prevent the urge to hide your shame. Where did you take those pieces of the sword I gave to the Professor in confidence which you shattered?”

Dimitri’s eyes widen in bemusement and Felix takes advantage of the falter by pushing harder, stepping into a more intimate space. He’s gathered the upper hand here. Close range fighting suited him better than it did for the Boar Prince— even without his gauntlets he was always the most skilled of the four in that style.

“Felix— I can assure you I didn’t..”

Felix barrels forward, throwing his sword to the side and pinning Dimitri down in an unprecedented move that actually works out in his favor. Dimitri is wrestled onto the ground as the spear falls from his grasp in the sudden tussle and Felix triumphantly smirks. Dimitri could easily throw him off if he were to unleash his true strength, but his flushed face and hesitant movements make it clear to the swordsman that he won’t attempt it. He leans forward, grabbing Dimitri’s uniform and raising him to breathe hotly into his face.

“It’s not yours to destroy. You don’t even study the sword often enough to have the skill to use it properly. It was obvious from how it fell apart so soon after it was taken up into your hands.”

Dimitri’s gaze falls to the side and his shoulders hunch in an admission of guilt at Felix’s blunt remarks. It wasn’t ever difficult to draw that reaction from him. Felix sighs and releases him, balling his hands into fists at the sides of the Prince’s thighs. This was all going in the wrong direction. Dimitri was far too polite and would fess up immediately to his questioning if he had done it. He’d probably even go so far as to leave a note on his door listing his intentions.

“I understand your reservations, and daresay you are correct in all but the accusation of theft. This is the first I’ve heard of the situation— I swear on my life.”

He seems sincere- not that Felix cares. The swordsman swings off and stands without offering a hand to the other man, instead glaring at him while crossing his arms and asserting that he doesn’t want Dimitri to count his life as a token of his innocence. Felix explains shortly how he’s running out of suspects and the Prince redirects him yet again to the person he saved for last in a futile desire to avoid any sort of face to face conversation with.

“Ah— well, I suppose there is still Sylvain to consider then?”

 _Sylvain._ Felix tried not to consider the fool at all. He failed, on multiple occasions, every damn day. Sylvain was impossible to evade. If he wasn’t to be found laughing in the halls, brushing his hands against the shoulders of some poor uncomfortable woman that was unlucky enough to receive his brief attention, he was smiling and rubbing his thumb over the little hairs at the base of Felix’s nape in his dreams. What a stupid thing for his mind to be occupied with. It wasn’t like him to expend energy being distracted with the way the image made his heart grow a little tighter in his chest.

No. Confronting the charmer would just complicate things. It was much more resourceful to directly question the blacksmith next to see if anyone had presented the shards to her. He doesn’t bother to tell Dimitri so, only nodding at his statement before he walks away, yet again, stewing with more of an emotional storm than he’d like to admit.

* * *

“Yeah, I fixed it. Early this morning, I had a guy drop it off. It was a pretty clean break and I already had the materials ready so it was no problem to forge. He already paid and took it back though, so I’m guessing he probably still has it.”

Felix groans more audibly than he means to. He takes a steadying breath, feeling all at once too close and too far from the solution.

“What did he look like?” He asks, already dreading the answer he knows is coming.

“Ah, he was a rather handsome fella, now that I think of it. A noble, with those mannerisms, I’m sure. More than a bit of a flirt with some of the brightest red hair I’ve seen ‘round these parts...” She stares at Felix’s morphing facial expression as she trails off with some discomfort in her tone.

“Thanks for the information.” He’s able to offer the expression of gratitude with a minimal amount of bitterness. Felix shuffles away without any other indication that their conversation is over. It’s nothing she wouldn’t have come across in her history of undoubtedly crass customers. There’s more bite in Hubert’s coffee, really.

Now, to hunt down the insatiable bastard.

Sylvain is, surprisingly, not in the hallways he frequents, prowling for women in between his assignments, nor is it a free day so he couldn’t( shouldn’t) be in town. Felix shirks his other responsibilities in favor of checking everywhere he can think of that Sylvain might be, but the redhead continues to elude him.

He finally returns to his bedroom before pausing and remembering the one place he hadn’t thought to look. He knocks on Sylvain’s door thrice, each one growing louder in succession.

Sylvain answers hesitantly, his face an amalgamation of nerves and joy. It’s unlike him. Felix is momentarily taken by surprise and his brows furrow, causing the paladin to open the door completely as he steps forward to check on him.

“Felix? Are you okay?”

Felix opens his mouth to respond, then sets it in a firm line as he takes in the sight of the Sword of Zoltan propped up against the bed in a scabbard he doesn’t recognize. _Finally._ He pushes past Sylvain roughly, ignoring the squawk of displeasure, immediately lifting the sword into his twitching hands.

“You idiot! How dare you..?”

He turns around and nearly bumps foreheads with Sylvain as the paladin places a firm, warm, hand on the small of his back. The sword thief chuckles and uses the other hand to brush back the loose bangs he always complains get in the way of his advances. He nuzzles their noses together and the sudden intimacy of the action makes Felix flush.

 _“Sylvain—_ stop that! I’m not going to forgive you that easily.”

The hand on his back drifts lower still as Sylvain lifts his chin to meet his lips in a deep kiss. Felix hated how composed he could remain in these kinds of situations. He’d never admit to how weak Sylvain left him feeling. It took years to establish the threat of clawing his eyes out if the pervert overstepped his boundaries and he wasn’t about to confess anything that made him believe differently.

Felix bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but just hard enough to convey the point that he wasn’t finished chewing him out yet. Sylvain merely laughs into the assault, his lips retreating, but instead of stepping back, he pulls Felix into a tighter embrace.

“You won’t forgive me easily, huh? I guess I’ll just have to keep trying harder then.”

Felix’s blush deepens as he squirms in his friend’s strong grasp. He can hear Sylvain’s heartbeat from where his head is pressed against it and his own heartbeat is erratic in response. This… thing they had going on for the past few months was becoming too personal. He was starting to feel… invested. He was just feeling too much regarding Sylvain period. His thoughts were deafening again.

_What are you doing? Let me go. Hold me tighter. Kiss me again, idiot. Stop messing around. Do you even care about me in that way? Don’t do or say anything you’d try with one of your girls._

He stopped himself from repeating even a single one of those, and instead aimed for something he hoped was more neutral. He needed to diffuse the situation before Sylvain got the wrong idea and he ended up underneath him with swollen lips and the inability to look in the mirror for days afterward without blushing at the marks left on his body again.

“I’m not going to forgive you ever if you don’t explain yourself right now.”

Sylvain sighs and relinquishes his hold. He sits on the bed, looking at the sword for a few seconds before he regards Felix with that same look from the doorway and pats the space beside him.

“I’m sorry I took the sword. I know how hard you’ve been training to use it. I didn’t want you to have to deal with getting it repaired today of all days. I wanted to surprise you with it before breakfast, but it wasn’t done in time and you were gone.” He scratches at his head, sheepishly. “I figured you’d be mad, but I knew you’d come back here eventually so I decided to wait.”

Felix narrows his eyes. It was presumptuous for Sylvain to assume he’d come to his bedroom in the middle of the day where anyone could see, even if it was just to find his sword. It was a correct assumption— but still.

“It doesn’t matter what day it is, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of the problem. You’re not allowed to invade my privacy and take my property just because.. just because we’re fooling around.”

He says the last part with his eyes drawn downward toward his lap. He’d never admitted to their enigmatic relationship out loud to Sylvain before. As a rule of thumb, vulnerability was an extreme discomfort he could live without. He didn’t know why he’d opened himself up to Sylvain like this in the first place, but it was harder each time they were alone like this to prevent the unusual thoughts and feelings from expressing themselves.

Sylvain, thankfully, doesn’t comment on his half confession, half reprimand. He places his hands over Felix’s in his lap and the swordsman raises his head just to be caught in a fiery gaze. “Felix.. do you not remember what today is?”

Felix frowns. “It’s the 20th day of the Pegasus Moon, but I don’t see how that excuses— _Ah.”_

The Sword of Zoltan replaces their hands in his lap. It looks sharper— more durable. Felix holds it up and inspects it from different angles, humming in approval. The sheen is so entrancing that he doesn’t notice Sylvain’s body moving behind to envelop his until he’s once again helpless to do anything but sheathe the sword in fear that it will cleave a limb off if the huge idiot jostles them too much.

Sylvain’s breath in his ear is dizzying. “Happy Birthday, Felix.”

Felix struggles to remember how to breathe, unwilling to let the happy noise he feels building in his throat release as Sylvain’s fingers find a comfortable spot on his hips while he leaves quick little kisses up and down his neck.

“You…you’re still not— I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

The fingers hook themselves into the fastenings of his pants, dipping down until hot skin blisters underneath them and suddenly “sorry” becomes a song that carries through his bloodstream until he feels drunk off of the careful attention.

Sylvain’s smirk is a loud outline on his shoulder. “Harsh as always, Fe. Maybe you’ll feel more gracious after your second gift.”

Felix smacks at the sword thief’s wandering hands as he turns and pushes Sylvain down, growling as he slinks on top of him. Sylvain laughs with a childish abandon before the swordsman shuts him up with a kiss of his own- all fire and teeth and tongue. Greed is infectious. It must be the faulty effect of the stolen sword, to have possessed Felix like this. 

“Felix— wait! I want to ask you something.”

Felix pulls his wet lips from Sylvain’s collarbone, grunting his response. Sylvain is already red from whatever he wants to say. It’s nerve wracking for the both of them, to know how timidly he’s approaching this.

The paladin looks at the space where the sword was propped up earlier and nods, gathering his confidence. Felix sits back, and is somewhat surprised to find Sylvain’s thumbs tenderly rubbing at his cheeks.

He’s even more surprised to find he likes it. He wants more. He waits with baited breath for Sylvain to _spit it out already._ His entire being is spiked with adrenaline.

“You know how guys will give the girls they like flowers and— when they ask them on a date or to court them or whatever. Well… you didn’t leave me with a lot of choices; I couldn’t figure out what to give to you that you didn’t already have. I really didn’t know what to do besides try to make your day simpler by getting your sword ready for you to practice with.”

Felix blinks, allowing himself time to process what Sylvain was saying. He slowly begins to develop a blush that rivals the paladin’s.

“You…are a sentimental fool. I’m not a girl. You really didn’t need to go through all that.”

Sylvain smiles wide enough to cause the corners of his eyes to crinkle as all that once existed around him seems to melt away. “Yeah I did, Fe.” He almost whispers, yet everything else is still enough for Felix to hear it as if he was shouting. “I wanted you to know how important you are to me when I asked you to be mine.” 

Felix sucks in his next breath and holds it while he contemplates. The wild look in his amber eyes are vividly reflected in Sylvain’s honeyed brown. He can’t stop looking at them. He can’t stop thinking of the deep desire inside of him to trust— to belong.

“Fine. I forgive you.”

Sylvain laughs in a tone Felix hasn’t heard since they were kids. It was a laugh reserved for making promises. Those were easy back then, when their minds came up with simple games and there was so much they didn’t know about the world they were being raised into.

“If I didn’t know you so well, I almost couldn’t believe that’s how you’re going to say yes, but hey, as long as you’ll really have me I’ll let you say whatever you want— my darling.”

Felix growls. “Don’t press your luck, Gautier. I’ll take it back if you call me things like that.”

Sylvain pouts, but his sparkling eyes give him away. Felix is pulled into a more passionate kiss this time, hands searching his hair for the tie, which is snapped off and thrown to the side. Felix’s protest becomes a throaty moan as Sylvain plays with his hair— warm brick oven of a chest pressing against him and making his head spin.

He gasps when they part and Sylvain immediately moves to coo more pet names against his skin as he kisses up and down his jaw. Felix shuts his eyes and blocks out everything other than the way Sylvain’s body feels rocking slowly against his. The Sword of Zoltan lies forgotten on the ground beside them as the world around Felix shakes and breaks and is rebuilt again by the sincere foundation of the man he now cannot deny loves him.

By some unforeseen occurrence, Felix loves him back.

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thefriedpipes)! Come talk more about fe3h with me 🤗


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